In Pursuit of Truth
by Balabalabagan
Summary: The wandering swordsman Yasuo has joined the League in hopes of finding clues to his Elder's murderer. But the story of a sword is inked in blood, and fate has conspired to do everything in its power to prevent him from completing his mission. From ancient curses to dark conspiracies to new friends, Yasuo must adapt. Or die.
1. Chapter 1

In Pursuit of Truth

I

_The story of a sword is inked in blood. - Yasuo_

_The wind blew across the field, making the stalks of the tall grass cascade like waves. Clouds drifted lazily in a sea of blue that stretched all the way to the snow-tipped mountain peaks in the distance. A single dirt road cut through the miles of green land, leading to a bamboo thicket. A lone figure moved in the center of the road._

_Swish. Swish. Swish._

_His movements were graceful. Each step and turn flowed into one another as he practiced, as if he were dancing with the breeze that surrounded him. Even the most minimal motion exhaled a strength that few outside the fields of battle witnessed, and even fewer had achieved. _

_Swish. Swish. Swish_

_He was a vagabond. His clothes, consisting of nothing but blue pants and only half of a blue cloak, were worn and ragged. The arm and shin guards on his limbs were scratched and dented, much like the single wing-shaped epaulet he wore on his left shoulder. A makeshift belt crafted out of a yellow silk rope wrapped around his waist and fastened a metal scabbard. A bamboo flask hung from it as well. His feet were bare. Yet despite all this, his clothes breathed and billowed and were given life anew._

_Swish. Swish. Swish._

_Three swift strikes. The sword in his hand sliced the air around him. Its long blade shone in the rays of the sun and cast short gales into the grass that scattered seeds into the air, where they swirled around his body in a calm tornado._

_Swish. Swish. Swish._

_His hair, long and wild, was tied into a ponytail that ruffled in the wind. His eyes were closed and his face was passive, a scar traveling over the bridge of his nose the only sign of disturbance. Between his deep concentration and the collar of his hood, his face was unreadable. His breathing was controlled and orchestrated his actions, keeping a constant tempo._

_Inhale. Turn. Exhale. Swish. Swish. Swish_

_Inhale. Turn. Exhale. Swish. Swish. Swish._

_Inhale. Turn. Exhale. Swish. Swish. Swish._

_Almost imperceptibly the vagabond's eyebrow twitched. His sword slowed to a stop in mid-air, the white seeds surrounding him flying away in the wind's embrace. He was alone on the dirt path. His muscles relaxed. He reached behind his back and grabbed the bamboo flask. With one hand the man popped out the plug and brought it to his lips. But just as he was about to sip, he stopped and inhaled deeply. Then he threw his flask high into the air._

_Three shadows sprang out of the grass, surrounding him from the sides and behind. The one in the back flung a chain towards their target while the other two charged forward. The shadow on the right leaped at him and aimed a sword at his neck. At the last moment, he ducked underneath it and rammed the hilt of his blade into his enemy's gut, winding them. _

_The shadow on the left thrust forward, a short spear jutting right for the center of the man. With a step, the wind seemed to carry him back just enough to be out of harm's way. He parried the spear tip with his arm guard, sparks shooting from the screeching metal and earning yet another scratch to its surface. He lightly pushed against it and sent the spear careening off course, where it planted itself in the thigh of the first shadow._

_He turned back towards the attacker on the left's exposed flank. Comprehension had just barely dawned on their face when the swordsman brought up his namesake. He exhaled._

_Swish._

_Blood sprayed into the sky, transforming the elegant blade into a flashing scarlet streak. Not wasting the momentum of his attack , the man turned towards his first foe, who clutched at his pierced thigh. He couldn't even start to wail in pain before the man swung his sword again._

_Swish._

_The shadow's head spun into the air, a fountain of red erupting after it. The chain from the third shadow had finally reached its target. Without looking, the vagabond tilted his head ever so slightly and dodged. He quickly snatched it out of the air and with a supreme burst of speed yanked his assailant towards him. The black garbed figure flew towards the blade. There was nothing that could be done._

_Swish._

_Two symmetrical pieces landed on the ground behind the swordsman, followed by the thuds of two more bodies. All was silent. Blood drenched the ground and the black outfits of the man's pursuers. He stayed crouched forward, his blade still in front of him and red from the battle. His arm shot out to the side and caught the falling bamboo flask._

_He stood up. A casual flick of the wrist cleaned the sword and sheathed it into the scabbard. Then he took a long sip of his favorite sake from the flask. After he finished drinking, Yasuo looked at the corpses around him._

_"Ninjas...I hate those guys."_

* * *

"Hey, we're here!"

Yasuo scrunched his face, opening his eyes and immediately wishing he hadn't. The sun was bright today, which did nothing for his throbbing hangover. Nor did the constant jostling of the cart he lay in. One would think hay would make a better cushion. He opened his mouth and let out a yawn before stretching his arms as far as they would go. Cracking his neck as he sat up, he turned to look at the owner of the voice.

The cart owner was a short man whose face was long and wrinkled, much like the face of the mule that pulled them. A straw hat adorned his head and obscured his eyes, giving him the appearance of a small, cranky mushroom. A scratching voice emanated from his throat.

"Hey, you! We're here!"

"I heard you," Yasuo replied.

The cart came to a stop, wheels creaking as its passenger stood up and jumped over the side. They were surrounded by large pine trees and bristled shrubbery. The road they were on had clear signs of active use and seemed to continue to a small town further . Outlines of wagon wheels, horse tracks, and footprints covered each other, with the majority heading towards the town. A scant few trailed into the brush, where a much smaller, rocky trail branched off. Yasuo glanced over the area and frowned.

"Where's the Institute?" he asked.

The cart owner pointed a finger to the small trail. "Go that way for a few miles. When ya see the big cave, yer there."

"I thought you were taking me to the entrance?" Yasuo let his hand slide a bit closer to his sword. He really wasn't in the mood for an ambush today.

"Ya gave me five silver and a loaf of bread! Yer lucky I even brought ya this far!" the old farmer hocked a loogie on the ground to punctuate his statement. "'Sides, my cart can't go that way, n' I ain't stickin' around so ya can try an' haggle a ride back home when ya fail!"

With a snap of the reins, the mule started to pull the cart once more, leaving the swordsman standing on the side of the road. Yasuo grimaced at the retreating cart. Hoisting his flask to his mouth, he took a quick chug, and found that there was more air in it than alcohol.

"So it's going to be one of those days," he sighed. With nothing but his sword and headache to keep him company, the wanderer journeyed down the rocky road.

* * *

It was not a couple of miles. Even at a brisk pace - considerably hard to do with all the stones, thorn-bushes, and raised tree roots - Yasuo had been travelling for at least two hours.

It was strange. The forest was so quiet and empty for a place so large. He had seen no animals, no signs of life other than his own footsteps and breathing. Normally this would set the seasoned warrior on edge; quiet meant unnatural, unnatural meant trouble, and trouble usually meant that several armed men would charge him at any second. But this was different. He felt no tension, but he didn't feel calm either. It was like the woodland itself had gone silent to observe the stranger walking in its domain, and he wondered if there was some sort of magic at play.

"A man could go crazy here all alone," Yasuo muttered to himself for the sake of hearing something. His hand rested on his sword hilt, his fingers tapping a slow beat while he weaved underneath a knot of branches. The woods got thicker the farther he went, and it was getting harder to navigate the maze of leaves. The idea of cutting a clear path came to mind, but Yasuo discarded it. He wasn't sure what awaited him at his destination and didn't want to run into a fight worn out. Eventually he managed to step out into a small clearing. "Hmm. About time."

In front of him was an enormous cavern guarded by two monumental statues. Yasuo didn't really pay that much attention to League matches but he did recall some things. The statues were the spitting images of the defensive turrets that dotted the Fields of Justice.

"Hopefully they don't blast people to bits like the other ones," Yasuo half-joked. He took a few tentative steps forward, just in case he had to make a hasty retreat, but was relieved when the statues continued to do nothing. He made his way to the entrance.

A set of stone stairs, carved right into the ground, wound down into darkness. Small torches dotted the walls in infrequent places. Stalactites hung from the ceiling, and Yasuo couldn't help but imagine that he was walking into the gullet of some great beast. He cast one last look over his shoulder to ensure he was alone and descended into the cavern.

The torches give little light, but it was enough to keep him from tripping down the steps. The air was dank. Water droplets fell from the ceiling, filling the cave with small echoes that blocked out anything else. The swordsman didn't mind; compared to the unnerving silence of the forest, the eerie dripping was a welcome sound.

Truthfully? Yasuo hated the silence.

His travels had taught him to appreciate quietude, but if he had a choice, he would always prefer the hustle and bustle of a town. When he was younger he could barely sit through meditation sessions at his school. The only time he actively looked for a quiet place was when he wanted to find a spot to sneak in a nap, and even then he preferred to rest near the old sake house. Yasuo closed his eyes and could picture it perfectly: a fine wooden building with sliding doors and a saggy roof, but the grandest of patios at the front. The smell of sake, meat buns, and other delights wafted in the air around the structure, luring the townsfolk and travelers in for a drink or meal. Old Man Satoru would play his shamisen in the front when there were few customers, which was an excellent accompaniment to a nap in the heat of the day. Many a time, he would climb up the branches of the tree overlooking the sake house and just let the shamisen lull him into a peaceful slumber in the shade. What he wouldn't give for some peaceful sleep now...

_Enter..._

Yasuo snapped out of his memories. In an instant his hand gripped his sword hilt and he had fallen into a fighting stance. Something - a voice - had spoken to him in almost a whisper. He did a quick look around to find the source and did a double take.

He stood atop a great flight of marble stairs, lines of blue energy stretching from a grand crystal that floated behind him, giving off a low hum. A massive building loomed before him. Colonnades lined the sides, holding up an enormous roof that pulsed with magical power. Runes from the oldest generations of Runeterra, long forgotten by most, were etched into the marble pediment at the top, pulsing with ancient power that made the hairs on the back of Yasuo's neck stand up. Two impressive golden doors encompassed the entire front of the building, depictions of people from every culture carved into them. Demacian soldiers. Noxian warriors. Ionian scholars and more. Overlooking them all was a giant robed figure, arms spread out wide like a priest giving a sermon.

He had found the Institute of War.

"How?" Yasuo asked himself. He looked back and could see a minuscule speck of daylight in the darkest part of the cavern behind him. Had he really been so trapped in his thoughts that he failed to notice how far he had been walking?

_Enter..._

The voice rung out again. A second later the floor beneath him shook with movement, sending small pebbles from the cavern falling to the floor. The great golden doors creaked and slowly open, white mist pouring out from the blackness and rolling around Yasuo's feet. He couldn't see anything inside.

"Well...that's inviting," Yasuo remarked. Still keeping one hand on his scabbard the wanderer stood up. He stared into the shadows, before giving a short smirk. He walked through the doorway, ready to face whatever may greet him on the other side. The doors shut behind him.

* * *

A/N: Hey there all! Hope you enjoyed this first chapter. This is my first fanfic, so feedback is appreciated!

As for an updating schedule, I am going to shoot for one chapter a month guaranteed (or Garen-teed, if you prefer), but if my creative muse is nice and graces me with literary blessings, I may upload more chapters per month. She can be a fickle bitch though, so no promises beyond one-a-month.


	2. Chapter 2

In Pursuit of Truth

II

_"Yasuo. Yasuo!" _

_Water splashed across Yasuo's face. He snorted once and slowly opened his eyes, turning his head to the figure above him. The room was dark, but a rice-paper window allowed just enough morning light in to illuminate the man's face. _

_He was handsome. He had a perfect face, young and soft, that sat above narrow shoulders on a lithe neck. A thin pair of lips were pressed in a line underneath a masterfully sculpted nose and cheeks. His skin glowed, was free of blemishes and was as smooth as the silk-like black hair on his head, styled in a tightly pulled ponytail. Not a strand was out of place, nor were there any wrinkles or unintentional creases in the simple white and blue hakama he wore. A plain sword in a black scabbard rested at his side. It was not wrong to say he appeared almost feminine, were it not for his strict blue eyes and furrowed brow. _

_"Good morning," greeted Yone. He held a wooden bucket in his hands that Yasuo scowled at. _

_"I was enjoying myself..." mumbled Yasuo. He tried to raise his hand from under the covers to dry his face, but it bumped into something soft and warm. _

_"I can see that," Yone noted humorlessly. _

_It took Yasuo a moment to register the distinctly female form laying next to him beneath the covers of the futon. Slow rhythmic breathing lifted the covers up and down, indicating that she was still asleep. He looked back up at his brother and gave a lazy grin. He received a glower in return. _

_"Hurry up and get dressed. Practice starts soon," Yone commanded. _

_"Right right," Yasuo waved it off, trying to make his now soggy pillow and sheets more comfortable for himself. "Gimme a few minutes and I'll meet you there." _

_"Yasuo. Now." _

_Yasuo opened one eye and glared at the other man. He did not budge. They eyed each other, locked in their traditional morning greeting. They both knew how it would end, just as it always did. Finally, Yasuo sat back up, stretching his back and cracking his neck. The sheets fell off and the woman next to him unconsciously pulled them closer around her. He stood up and went to gather his own hakama and sword from the corner he had thrown them in last night, stepping over the many sake bottles strewn around the room. "One of these days, Yone, I'm gonna teach you how to have fun."_

* * *

_Yone and Yasuo walked through the gates of the school and were met by a chorus of voices. _

_"Good morning, senpashi Yone! Senpashi Yasuo!" _

_Students stood on the firm dirt of the school grounds. The air bit at their skin and sent goose bumps up their arms, but they stayed at attention, backs straight and arms tight against their sides. Yone nodded in acknowledgement. Yasuo yawned. _

_"Today we will be practicing your katas, with emphasis on Shogu-chi, the Gentle Path, and the Shon-Xan inspired Kumogasugi. We will begin with warm-ups," Yone stated as he swerved around. "Starting with a run around Heiwatanigi. Please try to keep up." He ran off towards the village at the bottom of the winding path. _

_Yasuo stared at his brother's disappearing form with disbelief. The students - twenty-something men and women of various ages - all jogged after, leaving him in the dust. He looked after the other students, all running downhill with Yone at the head, and then looked at the school. His futon was inside, unused and lonely in his room. His head moved back and forth between the school and the pack. His mind was made up. _

_"Dammit Yone..." he spat on the ground and chased after the group of students. _

_His strides were long, relaxed, and barely touched the ground before launching him forward. He casually passed the mass of students, heads turning in begrudging respect as the senior student sped by with seemingly no exertion on his part, their own efforts to keep up beginning to drip down their faces. To them, it was as if the wind pushed Yasuo with each step, letting him glide across the ground rather than run. Yasuo didn't spare them a glance, instead focusing on Yone, who steadily increased the distance between himself and the others; a subtle cue. _

_He had reached the outskirts of the village, where rice paddies were being attended by farmers. Occasionally they raised their heads and smiled at Yone, or waved and shouted. He always nodded and said a polite greeting, all the while continuing his run. Putting some more strength in his step, Yasuo sprinted up to his brother's side. _

_"Oi," he started, getting annoyed when Yone continued to gaze forward. "Why did you go and drag me all the way to the school if we were gonna run back into town anyway?" _

_"If you had come back last night I wouldn't have had to," Yone answered. _

_"Oh come on..." sighed the younger of the two brothers. _

_"I refuse to let you skip out on training, especially when Master left us in charge for the month," Yone declared. _

_"It's not like I need it," Yasuo argued. _

_"It doesn't matter," Yone replied, "You should be practicing every day regardless of how talented you are. Even the finest blade will dull if not cared for." _

_The paddy fields gave way to small houses made of wood and white paper, sliding doors rattling as people went out to start their day. They didn't pay much mind to the brothers; the hustle and bustle of Heiwatanigi proper swallowed them. Merchants peddled wares ranging from fresh produce and rice to pottery and clothing, calling out at potential customers with promises of quality products at good prices. Messengers ran around the town, relaying the latest news and delivering letters. Scholars traveled in groups discussing the latest theories on both the spiritual and the scientific. Carts rode down the center, carrying everything from people to food supplies to foreign goods from other city-states. The boys wove through them without losing speed. _

_"Sometimes you need to get away from the dojo and do something fun," Yasuo countered. "The blade is fine but the body must -" his pace faltered for a moment and he let out a yawn. _

_"Rest? What you do is anything but restful," Yone chided as he made way for a wagon. "Perhaps if you didn't spend your time gallivanting around town drinking and consorting with strumpets you would have more energy." _

_Yasuo elected to hop over the wagon, leaping high into the air and flipping in mid-air, eliciting words of awe from bystanders. Yone chose not to watch as his brother landed next to him. Yasuo smirked, only to yawn once more. _

_"My point stands," Yone said. _

_They jogged deeper into Heiwatanigi. The buildings became more lavishly decorated and grand; gold inlaid tiles decorated rooftops, large signs with Ionian characters etched into the surfaces - names, quotes, and the symbols for fortune, joy, desire and art - hung over doorways, and paper lanterns dangled above the road. Numerous open-air stages and platforms occupied the street, waiting for night to come along with performers and audiences. It was much more vibrant than the residential and market districts, but far less busy; the entertainment quarter came alive at the end of the day, not the beginning. _

_A group of women lounged atop the balcony of a gaudy red pagoda, including the girl from earlier that morning. They giggled coyly down as the brothers ran by. Yasuo took notice and gave a short wave, ignoring how Yone watched him out of the corner of his eye. _

_At last the two came to their destination: a meditation garden. In every town in Ionia there was at least one area dedicated to the quest for enlightenment. It was a place of peace and nature, of beauty and balance. Blossom trees and shrubbery were carefully tended to by expert gardeners daily, stray pedals retrieved to be used as incense for the burners located about. There were no other signs of human influence; no chairs or gazebos or houses. Just simple flat stones and soft grass to serve as seats. A Nexus crystal - Heiwatanigi's only one - hovered in the center of the garden, wisps of green energy wrapping around the air. Yone stopped and turned to his brother. _

_"Why not meditate?" he asked, "If you wish for rest, a time spent in solitude does good for the body and soul." He chewed on his next words. He knew that bringing this topic up would put Yasuo in a foul mood. "Maybe it would help you reflect on my proposal?" _

_Yasuo frowned. "And here we go..." he drawled, walking over to a nearby tree and laying down beneath it, arms behind his head. _

_"I'm serious about this, Yasuo. Our time at the school is coming to an end and we must find our place in the world. We're lucky. These past years we have been blessed with a home where we could refine ourselves, challenge ourselves to become better," Yone folded his arms into his sleeves, his eyes wandering to the distant mountain. A temple sat at the base, overlooking the village. "It'd be a great dishonor to let our master's efforts go to waste." _

_The wind blew and shook the blossom trees. Pink pedals wafted from the branches and rained down on the boys. Yasuo's eyes followed them all down in contemplation. _

_"Then shouldn't we aim a bit higher than guard duty?" he spoke, both to Yone and himself. _

_"Yasuo-" Yone began but was cut off. _

_"You're the one who said it," Yasuo shrugged, "It would be a waste of Master's efforts if we didn't use what we learned to our full potential. Wouldn't picking a station so...beneath our abilities be an equal dishonor?" _

_Yone's mouth gaped. "Guarding the Elder is a great honor!" _

_"If we were guarding the Elder himself then I would agree," Yasuo rolled his eyes and blew a pedal off his nose. "But we wouldn't be. We'd be guarding the front door." _

_"Guarding the main gate doesn't change the importance of our task," Yone contended. _

_"Yone. It's a door," Yasuo deadpanned. His brother huffed and walked over to the Nexus shard. Hearing no rebuttal, Yasuo continued, "Besides, I already have a plan for my future." _

_Yone's head snapped back around in genuine interest. "Oh? What did you have in mind?" _

_"Wait until Master Masato comes back. If he brings back the news that I think he will, then I'll tell you," said Yasuo. He grinned when Yone tried to mask the small pout on his face. _

_"I look forward to it. But in the meantime, I want you to stop disregarding your duties. Until Master comes back, we are responsible for the school and students, and should act as such. I know I can't stop you from doing what you want, but could you make it easier on me just this once? I can't do this on my own," Yone's shoulders sagged, and Yasuo took notice of just how worn out his brother was. Dark bags drooped under his eyelids, making him look far older than he really was. He must have woken up before the sun even rose to come search for him. How many days had he forced Yone to drag him back? _

_Yasuo got to his feet and dusted himself off. He smiled at Yone. "I guess I can play the model student for a few weeks." _

_"Thank you," Yone smiled back, but Yasuo pointed a finger at him. _

_"On one condition," Yasuo demanded, "When he does get back and relieve us of our duties, you're going to join me on a night out in the entertainment district. You need a way to unwind besides meditating in the gardens and tea." _

_Yone's face soured. _

_"Don't give me that look! There are other things there besides wine and women; there'll be plenty of theater and music and symposiums and I know you enjoy that stuff. Plenty of merriment that is perfectly harmless," finished Yasuo, crossing his arms over his chest. _

_Yone put a hand on his chin and considered it carefully. Finally he met Yasuo's eyes. _

_"No gambling." _

_"That's fine," reassured Yasuo. _

_"No pleasure houses." _

_"That's fine too." _

_"And no drinking." _

_"...Now you're pushing it." _

_Yone chuckled at his brother's grimacing face, though it was not long before Yasuo joined in. The sounds of feet and panting alerted the two to their students, who had managed to catch up and took to wheezing in the gardens after a hard run. Yasuo strode forward._

_"Alright everyone! Get some air for a minute, then it's back to the school for drills!"_

* * *

Marble doors creaked open, letting Yasuo walk out of the Reflection Chamber. It had been an...experience. One he prefer never to go through again.

A robed figure awaited him in the hall. Yasuo reflexively reached down for his sword, but the figure bowed in salutation.

"You need not worry," they said. Their voice was masculine yet soft. "You have passed the Judgment. Welcome to the Institute of War."

Yasuo relaxed slightly, but didn't release his hilt. The man's face was shrouded by a large hood, so he was unable to read his face. "You were the one in my head back there, correct?"

"That is correct. I am Summoner Archimes. I was randomly selected to oversee your Judgment and will be your personal guide while you become acquainted with the League. Should you have any questions or requests, you need only ask of me. It is an honor to be at your service. If you would follow me please," the summoner motioned down the hallway, his script completed.

"So that's it?" Yasuo questioned, "I'm a part of the League now?" What he went through had not exactly been pleasant, but it was far from being what he considered an ordeal.

Archimes hesitated.

"Well..." he started, speaking with his own words for the first time. "Yes and no. There will be some...paperwork," he gulped out.

At this Yasuo raised a brow, before relaxing completely and letting out a short laugh. "Ha! I take it other fighters aren't very acquiescent of that?" He walked beside the shorter man and followed him down the hallway. He kept his wrist leaning on his hilt more out of habit than from any real sense of danger.

"You have no idea," Archimes sighed, relieved that this new inductee wasn't as violent as the others. "The last two champions I reviewed were the Hand of Noxus and the Loose Cannon. With the former, I was terrified that he'd decapitate me with each form he signed. And with the latter..." he shuddered.

"Sounds like a tough job," noted Yasuo.

"It has its merits," Archimes said, "Volunteering to be in the Judgment pool grants extra points."

"Points?" asked Yasuo, but the topic was lost when they reached a circular lobby. Six hallways, all identical save for the color of their pillars, branched off in different directions. A large check-in desk was in the corner, where another summoner filed through a mountain of papers. Archimes stepped up with Yasuo in tow.

The summoner looked up. "Ah, Archimes. How did the Judgment go?"

Yasuo's brow shot up. It was a woman. And one whose voice he recognized from long ago.

"See for yourself," Archimes moved aside so that Yasuo was in full view, "Luli, I'd like to introduce you to-"

"You!" shouted the summoner, jumping out of her seat so hard she knocked into the desk. The pile of papers she had been processing tumbled over the front and scattered on the floor. She swore in Ionian.

"You two...know each other?" asked Archimes, backing away from the table.

Yasuo was the first to recover. If he could see through the shadows of the hood, he reckoned he would see a face filled with hate and fire. A part of him was thankful for that small grace, but his warrior spirit was quick to chastise him for being so cowardly.

"Hello Luli. It's been a long time," he bowed.

Luli's form stiffened at the gesture, and turned quickly to Archimes. "What is this man doing here?"

Archimes withered under the anger in her voice. "H-he passed the Judgement!"

"Really? Him?" she whispered harshly to the other summoner. "Don't you know what he's done?"

"...No...?" he said truthfully.

"He's a criminal! A murderer!"

"Um, don't we already have those in the League?" Archimes brought up. Luli had no counter point, so she swiveled back toward Yasuo.

"Fine," the words slid through gritted teeth. She yanked open a drawer and pulled out a sizable stack of forms, tossing them onto the table along with an inkwell and quill.

"Welcome to the League of Legends," her voice dripped with false decorum.

Yasuo flipped through one of the packets. Everything was in the standard written language of Valoran; something he had very little practice with.

"I don't suppose you have these in Ionian?" he asked.

"Sorry. We're all out," Luli bluntly replied.

Neither man decided to question her.

* * *

It had taken a considerable while, but thanks to Archimes' translations, Yasuo was able to finish the documents necessary to officially induct himself into the League.

All one hundred and four pages.

Archimes now escorted Yasuo through the Institute, giving him a tour of all its amenities. The summoner proved to be quite helpful; while Yasuo was certain he could figure out his new surroundings on his own given sufficient time, it was nice to have a reliable and accessible source of information.

They exited a large auditorium after a tattooed blue man shooed them out, rasping about how he needed the space for his upcoming lecture and had no time for 'sightseers.'

"He seemed nice," Yasuo said dryly, moving for a flock of summoners as they walked into the lecture hall.

"That's just how the Rogue Mage is," Archimes sniffed, "Granted, he may be extra snippy with me since I didn't use him that well in our last match."

"Do champions usually work for the Institute?" Yasuo asked.

"Some do. A lot of them cooperate with the League in exchange for furthering their own goals, and the High Council is much more liberal with those that elect to go beyond participating in matches," Archimes explained.

They entered a long hall with pearl pillars and oak doors lining the sides. Gold placards shone in the light from crystalline chandeliers above, letting Yasuo read the names etched on them. Sivir. Annie. Twitch. Jax.

"I'm surprised you decided to choose the independent wing," Archimes said while they walked, "How come you didn't prefer the Ionian corridor?"

Yasuo's pace slowed to a halt, forcing Archimes to turn back. The warrior's face stared at him coolly. "You look through my memories and yet you still ask that question? Are you dumb?"

"I-I-I didn't mean to offend! I don't remember anything at all from your reflection!" Archimes defended frantically, his hands brought up as a shield. "That's just how it works. After someone is judged, the sorcery responsible erases the summoner's mind."

"Hmph," Yasuo sounded, resuming his walk.

The walk down the hall was quiet and uncomfortable for both of them. Archimes followed behind a few feet, his hesitation and anxiety evident in his steps. Yasuo wasn't sure if it was because of growing irritation or actual guilt, but he couldn't stand the atmosphere. "Sorry," he said. Archimes jumped at his words, but moved up so he could hear better.

"Let's just say that I doubt the other Ionians would approve of my residence," Yasuo said.

Archimes said nothing, but approached a door similar to the rest.

"This is your room," he said. He waved a hand over the crystals and the began to spin and realign until they abruptly stopped. The door clicked and swung open, and Archimes motioned for Yasuo to go inside.

A simple bed rested next to the wall, alongside a wooden desk and cupboard. A Nexus crystal meant for scrying was perched on an oak table in the corner, along with a clock. A smaller room led to a bathroom. The room was small and lit by more floating shards in ceiling. Yasuo let his hand glide over the desk, feeling the wood rub against his palm. He then let his hand drag to the bed, and pinched the fabric between his hands. His face was unreadable, his mouth hidden by his collar.

"I hope that these are too your liking," said Archimes from the doorway, "I know it's sparse, but you can request an upgrade if you garner more favor with the Council."

There were no grand furnishings or decorations, and to the typical man it might have seemed an insult to house someone as revered as a Champion. But to Yasuo? "This is fine," he said.

It was paradise.

"Then I shall take my leave," Archimes bowed, "If you have any questions just let me know. That Nexus crystal can contact the front desk and relay messages. And you can watch matches or call for room service too!" He turned and prepared to walk away.

"Actually, I do have a question," Yasuo said, causing Archimes to trip over his robes and spin back around.

"Y-yes?"

"Do you know of any champions that use wind as a weapon?" Yasuo asked. Something flickered in his eyes that clashed with his passive visage, his gaze heavy on Archimes but not malign.

"Hmm...the only person I can think of off the top of my head is Janna, The Storm's Fury," Archimes replied. Yasuo motioned for him to go on. "She's a wind sorceress, and a big advocate of techmaturgy. She actually won the zeppelin race in Piltover last year!"

"Is there anyone else? Maybe someone that uses sword techniques to make wind?" pressed Yasuo as he leaned forward.

Archimes shook his head. "I don't know. I mean, we have a lot of talented swordsmen in the League that move as fast as the wind..."

Yasuo processed the information and sighed. He pulled his sword out from his sash and propped it on the table before sitting down on the bed. "Thanks, Archimes. That'll be all." He offered a smile to the summoner.

The hooded man bowed as the door closed shut, and Yasuo immediately fell back onto the bed with a plop.

"Shoud've guessed it wasn't that easy," he said to himself. His body sunk into the mattress like an anchor. It wasn't the softest bed in the world, but compared to leaves and dirt it was a cloud. His joints were sore, his head throbbed, and he had to force his eyelids to remain open. "Damn! Paperwork really does take it out of you. All this time I thought it was a joke."

Yasuo stared at the ceiling. The crystal shards looked like twinkling stars against the grey stone, their glow reminding him of the meditation garden back home.

"Home..." he whispered. It had been so long since he had used that word. The events of the day had brought old sights and smells to the forefront of his mind he had fought desperately to suppress since he left Ionia. Time had been both kind and cruel to his memories - he could recall every moment of his exile. It felt like he had lived several lifetimes. So many days wandering from bar to bar, ghetto to ghetto, battlefield to battlefield, and living under the turbulent tempest that was nature. So many hours spent hungry or sick or both. So many sleepless nights where he was hunted by man, animal and nightmare.

And now? He had his own room, complete with such luxuries as his own bath and scrying crystal. He had access to room service. He had a desk to write on, a bed to sleep in, and a door he could lock. The idea that he had a place to call his own again was such a foreign concept he honestly didn't know what to feel. Was this place home? No. It would never be home. Yet it would have to do, and there were much, much worse places he had stayed at.

A yawn popped his jawbones. The star mosaic had a hypnotic effect, reminding him of the rare days he was able to stargaze during his journeys. He was too tired to think anymore, and he was eager to remember how sleeping in a bed felt. He didn't bother taking off his clothes or armor, so used to their weight he was. Instead he just lie there, letting the false night sky lull him to sleep.

Yet before he could fall asleep completely, a clip from that day's events replayed in his head.

_"What's this mean?" Yasuo pointed the quill at the word. _

_"That's 'title'," Archimes said, "Champions in the League are encouraged to have an official title to better distinguish themselves for the public." _

_Yasuo tapped the quill to his lips, trying to think of something to write. It was the final page too. Creativity and word play was never his strong suit; Yone inherited those traits. _

_Archimes noticed his trouble and ventured a suggestion. "You seem to be some sort of sword master, yes? How about the Wandering Blade? Or the Sword of Ionia?" _

_"Ha!" Luli coughed from the desk she worked at. She hadn't looked up once since she had chucked a spare inkwell at them after they ran out earlier. _

_"That's it," Yasuo muttered, standing up and marching over to the desk. He slapped the packet onto the table with enough force to rattle the wooden legs, and for the briefest moment he swore he could see Luli's eyes through her hood as she pushed her chair back. _

_They were wide, a mixture of anger, fear, and pain reflected in them. Yasuo instantly regretted his actions, but refused to back down. With all the honesty and desperation he could muster, he spoke. _

_"It wasn't me." _

_The words hung in the air._

"It wasn't me..." Yasuo trailed off, exhaustion overtaking him.

* * *

A/N: A big thank you to Cinis and Deixis for proofreading and editing for me! Also thanks to Tachy0n for the review!

Well I finally graduated, so now I should have more time to write! That means chapters may come a bit faster now, but no promises. Also, for those that are worried that this is going to be some OC-filled fic, don't worry! Archimes and Luli are and always will be resigned to background characters at most. I just like to give them names since it gets boring to say 'Summoner #1" and "#2", etc etc. They may pop up every now and then, but this story is centered on Yasuo and the champions he meets.

Thanks for the follows people, and I hope you look forward to the next chapter.


	3. Chapter 3

In Pursuit of Truth

III

_Yasuo threw Luli onto the ground, eliciting another thud and groan from the girl. The other students winced at their companion's defeat._

_Yasuo towered over her, clutching a wooden training sword. "No good. Again," he commanded._

_Luli rolled up to her knees, pushing herself back into a fighting stance. She gripped the hilt, keeping the tip of the blunt blade pointed underneath Yasuo's chin. She slowed her breathing, inhaling through the nose and exhaling out her mouth, just as their master had taught. The brunette stared at her opponent, eyes filled with determination._

_Yasuo stood casually, sword slack at his side, a bored look on his face._

_Luli tightened her grip. This was her chance. Her moment to claim victory for herself and all the other students. She was_ _going to hit him this time and smack that stupid look off his face right in front of everyone. She would not be beaten by the youngest member of the school, even if he was the best. He had so many openings; true, they had all been traps previously, but one of them had to be real! _

_Yasuo shifted his head and Luli tensed, preparing for the attack._

_"You're too heavy," Yasuo said._

_Luli nearly choked. The students at the sidelines snickered or shook their heads as she coughed and tried to compose herself._

_"Your weight distribution isn't right," Yasuo pointed his sword to her back leg. "Put a bit more on your left leg. Otherwise when I strike, you're gonna slide back and lose your footing. Also you're very stiff. Loosen your shoulders and keep your elbows closer to your body. Your grip is too tight. You're holding a sword, not wringing a chicken. Let it breathe."_

_The image of a distinctly Yasuo-looking chicken being shaken like a ragdoll crossed through Luli's mind. She reluctantly adjusted herself as per Yasuo's instructions. The younger man grinned. "Much better." _

_He sprang._

_He was upon her in half a second. Luli barely blocked the first strike before Yasuo had moved to her flank and swung again. She ducked underneath it and parried the follow-up attack, stabbing forward with her own sword. Yasuo batted it away and crouched low, aiming to sweep the girl's feet. Luli jumped just in time and raised her sword above her head, ready to bring it down on Yasuo's exposed back._

_Then a foot found it's way into her gut, knocking her back and sending her tumbling. If she hadn't exhaled beforehand, the wind would have been knocked out of her. Luli recovered and guarded as Yasuo attacked again. He thrust at her. She dodged and counter-attacked, aiming for his face._

_Yasuo moved his head to the side to avoid the stab. As soon as Luli pulled back, he raised his sword overhead._

_Luli saw the maneuver. It was a feint. It was not as fast as his previous swings, so it surely had to be a feint. He would switch directions at the last minute and go for her side. That was her moment to break his rhythm!_

_Luli pretended to block high, and was inwardly thrilled to see her prediction was true; as her sword was coming up to meet his, Yasuo stopped mid-strike and slashed at her waist. With great force and a yell she slammed her sword onto his, forcing both weapons to the ground, with her's on top and Yasuo's stuck in the dirt. Eyes widened in surprise and some ooh's were heard from the sidelines._

_This was it! Luli cried out, letting her blade slide up Yasuo's and rush to his face. She had him!_

_Yasuo waited until the last second and leaned backwards to avoid Luli, the wooden sword mere centimeters from the tip of his nose. His stomach was pushed out and exposed. Luli brought her blade down vertically, but Yasuo wove around it, pulling his stomach in and following the motion of the sword like a worm._

_Another miss, but that was alright. Luli was on the offensive now. She had control of the fight. She pressed her advantage, attacking over and over again, her resolve bolstered by her success at breaking the senior student's flow. All Yasuo could do was dodge and backstep. Yet he didn't look anxious or startled or even fully awake._

_A voice in the back of Luli's mind nagged at her. Why was he only dodging? He never blocked, never put up any resistance, and yet none of her moves were landing. Frustration mounted in her, and Luli started to attack more recklessly, desperate to land a hit. She put all her weight into her next strike, swinging wide and to the left. She realized too late that she had made a mistake._

_Yasuo moved with the attack, following the momentum and again letting the wooden sword glide over him. The strength of Luli's failed attack had twisted her body, leaving her in a terrible position to defend. Yasuo came in, his sword's tip shooting out at her. Luli quickly knocked the attack away but it was sloppy, allowing Yasuo to continue forcing her backwards._

_Now _she _was on the receiving end. Yasuo pushed her back with each strike, her own defense too weak. Her training sword jolted in her hands, bruising her palms whenever Yasuo connected. She had to do something to get the fight back into her control!_

_Desperately Luli tried to force Yasuo into a lock to buy time, shoving her blade against his, but the senior student let the power of her shove push him back. He landed and put all his weight on his back foot. A second later he rocketed towards the young woman._

_She didn't have time to dodge and was still off balance from her lock attempt. There was no way she could defend._

_She closed her eyes._

_The pain never came. When a few seconds had passed and Luli still felt her body intact, she hesitantly opened her eyes._

_She was greeted with Yasuo's face almost nose to nose with hers. "Boo."_

_She yelped and jumped backwards. Unfortunately for her, she ended up jumping right into the school's koi pond. Her classmates tried to quench their laugther as Luli's soaked form rose from the water, her eyes glaring daggers through wet hair._

_Why did senpashi Yone have to leave the school?_

_It had been a week and a half since Yone had been called by their master to assist with something in the capital, leaving his brother in charge of the grounds and their training. When they had first heard of this, everyone thought that it would be the most unproductive week of their lives; Yasuo was not known for his proclivity for teaching. In fact, most of them expected to be in charge of their own regimens, resigned to the fact that their child instructor would be sleeping off a hangover most days._

_So it came as a shock when the young swordsman woke them up in the middle of the night for laps around the village. The whole time he spouted on about how he had made a promise to Yone, and he was going to be damned if he didn't see it through._

_Since then it had been a nonstop whirlwind of drills, sparring, and runs. So many runs. Runs up the hill, runs down the hill, runs all around town and runs into the woods. Runs while carrying their swords, runs while carrying weights, runs where they had to pull or push a cart. Runs before, after, and even during drills._

_The kata practices and sparring sessions would have been a welcome respite from the running if they weren't as vicious. Forms were repeated over and over again until every one of their movements met Yasuo's approval - nothing short of absolute perfection satisfied him. They held one position for what felt like hours as he analyzed every inch of their forms individually before he would allow them to move on to the next set._

_And the sparring sessions? Well..._

_Yasuo propped himself up on the practice sword, his mouth smiling but his eyes serious. "That wasn't half-bad but you let impatience defeat you. Finishing a fight fast is wise, but sometimes you have to let it take its course and wait. Alright," he motioned for her to sit back down next to the other disciples and scanned the line of people. "Saito! You're up!"_

_A man who appeared in his mid twenties tensed, his topknot going limp when his name was called. His friends chuckled or silently gave him the Ionian sign for condolence as he glowered and stood up._

_"Senpashi Yasuo, I don't mean to be rude, but what's the point of this?" asked Luli as she pulled herself out of the pond and wrung out her clothes._

_"I agree with Luli. Shouldn't we be sparring against each other? Your skills are far superior to ours, senpashi," added Saito, trying to buy time for himself._

_"Me being superior is exactly the reason you're sparring me," replied Yasuo. __He was met with silence, the students unsure of how to respond._

_"...Does that mean...you just want to beat us up?" ventured another student._

_"...Yes Heng. I decided this morning that I'd spend the day beating you all senseless. That'll fix my hangover!" Yasuo rolled his eyes and sighed, resting his hands on the sword and using it like a cane in front of him. It reminded him of how Master Masato would start his lectures, and he wondered if he was subconsciously mimicking the old man or if this was the most natural position to teach from. "How many of you have sparred against Yone? Or Kenta? Xiangsha?"_

_The class turned to one another and back to Yasuo, shaking their heads in response._

_"I thought so," said Yasuo, "Listen. There are two reasons I've been making you fight me. One is that it makes you better. Fighting someone stronger forces you to become stronger yourself." The students nodded. It was a reasonable answer, though they doubted getting handed bruises left and right improved them that much._

_Seeing their comprehension, Yasuo continued, "The other reason we're doing this is because you all need to learn what it feels like to fight someone that outclasses you. One day you're gonna run into someone who is so strong that the gap is just too wide for you to close no matter what you do. That's just how the world is; there is always someone better. What do you do then?" _

_He slung his sword on his shoulder and paced the line of students. "Run? That may not be an option. Surrender? Give up and let them do what they will? That's the coward's way out. Die?" Yasuo paused, a smirk spreading on his face. "Well I guess that's always an option." The others were not amused._

_"Or!" he shouted suddenly, spinning on his heel and making everyone jump in the spots, "Do you fight? Do you fight knowing that there is no conceivable way for victory?" he asked as he marched closer to his pupils, stopping right in front of Saito, who was sweating profusely._

_"U-u-umm...Yes?" he warily answered._

_"Is that a question?" Yasuo raised his eyebrow, then faced everyone else. "Is that a question?!"_

_"No senpashi!" everyone yelled, jumping to their feet and standing at attention._

_"Do you fight?!"_

_"Yes senpashi!"_

_"Good! That's what I thought," Yasuo said. He moved to sit on the wooden porch of the dojo and motioned everyone to sit and join him. "There will come a time when you'll be outmatched, outmaneuvered, and out of options. And that is when you fight the hardest and assure yourself of victory against all odds. The moment you think you might lose is the moment you make it true."_

_Their teacher gazed off into the sky, his eyes studying the clouds. A light breeze breathed into the courtyard and stroked his cheeks. It was pleasant, yet he looked troubled, as if the wind brought ill tidings. Still searching in the sky, he said, "This is the only lesson I can give you. We can go over techniques and theory for hours, but I'm sure Yone and Master Masato have already stuffed that knowledge into your minds like Xiangsha's fresh pork dumplings."_

_Some students chuckled at the strange analogy, but Luli noticed how Yasuo's voice carried none of its witty bite._

_"I've never been one for repetition of techniques or meditating on the 'way of the sword'. The blade has always just...sort of moved for me because I wanted it to. Sometimes I don't know how I got so skilled. But I always know _why..."_ Yasuo looked down at them and met their eyes, "I wanted to beat the odds. The determination to win against the impossible. That is what I want to teach you. So that when you do meet that guy," he grinned "You crush him with all your resolve."_

_Suddenly his eyes darted to the gate, the students turning to follow his vision._

_Someone, a man, stood under the gateway of the school. His hair was pulled back into an impressive triple bun topknot, and complimented his tendril-like moustache. He wore white silk robes with long sleeves and decorative embroideries; a fashion of the Navori province, and an expensive one too. Two dao swords and some daggers were fastened to the sash around his waist. He bowed._

_"Hello. My name is Fu Peng of the Hiten school. I wish to challenge the master of this school to a duel."_

* * *

Hot water rained from the shower faucet onto Yasuo. Droplets navigated down the contours of his muscles and scar tissue, taking suds and half a year's worth of dirt with them into the drain below. He ran his hands through his hair and scrubbed conditioner vigorously into his scalp, tangled strands and knots coming loose for the first time since his quest began.

It was wonderful. He laughed under the sprinkling droplets, drinking the water and soap as he rinsed off - he choked on the latter but he didn't care because dammit this was soap! Real, actual soap! Not some liquid he had to wring out of flower petals and fruit.

Shutting off the nozzle, he stepped out of the shower and dried himself off with a towel, tying it loosely around his hips before walking into his bedroom. A small bottle, an empty bowl of rice and a plate that used to have an Ionian egg omelette sat at his desk. A simple meal considering what else was on the room service menu, but Yasuo preferred a light breakfast washed down with some fresh sake. He grabbed the small bottle and finished it off in one gulp.

"Food, drink, and a warm shower? I could get used to this," he said contently. He walked over to the scrying crystal and snapped his fingers over it. It glowed brighter, words of light writing themselves in the air. Thankfully, they were in Ionian. Yasuo waved his hand through one of the strands and the words coalesced into a green window of vapor that showed two blurred masses colliding into one another. Moments later the forms solidified into clearer images; a fierce man in black armor with a monstrous battle axe was fighting off some sort of humanoid crocodile wielding a cleaver. The two wrestled among miniature hooded figures brandishing weaponry and crashing into one another like mechanical dolls. It would have been comical, had the crocodile not chosen that moment to chomp down on the man's bicep, blood spraying onto the knee-high combatants. They paid no mind to the gore and continued to beat at their enemy counterparts. A bodiless voice - an announcer of some sort - was talking rapidly about the battle, using foreign words such as "C.S." and "lane pressure" and "tons of damage."

Yasuo couldn't make heads or tails of it.

A knock on his door distracted him from watching the axe man leap into the air above the lizard. Yasuo moved from his seat on the bed and went towards the door, stopping briefly to pick up his sword. "Who is it?" he called through the wood.

"It is Archimes, Yasuo sir!"

"Archimes...Oh! Right," Yasuo put a hand to the crystal mechanism and the door opened to reveal the summoner.

"Ah!" Archimes jumped after viewing Yasuo's towel-clad form and bowed repeatedly, "Apologies Champion! I didn't mean to interrupt! I-I can come back later! W-well not really b-but-"

"Relax," Yasuo said as he leaned against the doorway and crossed his arms, "Anyone ever tell you you're wound too tight?"

Archimes looked back up, face still hidden by his hood, and rubbed the back of his head. "Many a time. I think that's a requirement for this job. This place has a tendency to drive people nuts," he laughed. Yasuo's face showed that he didn't doubt that.

He waited for the summoner to continue, but seeing no indication of that, he asked, "So can I help you with anything?"

"Yes! Uh, there has been a...complication with your induction into the League. High Councilor Kolminye wishes to see you in her office."

Yasuo's good mood from the shower and food began to wane, the idea of being denied more of said pleasures after having a brief taste soured his face. "Did I mess up the forms or something?"

The summoner was silent, but he tugged the collar of his robes.

"I-i-it would seem that one of the other champions has filed a complaint against you."

* * *

"Ah, Mr. Yasuo. Please have a seat," the raven-haired woman behind the desk beckoned for the swordsman to sit in one of the chairs across from her. She was a completely ordinary woman: simple spectacles on the bridge of her nose, short cropped hair, and neither ugly nor gorgeous. She was also one of the strongest mages on the planet, and could probably wipe most things off the face of the earth with a twitch of her finger. She was Vessaria Kolminye.

Contrary to popular belief, the office of Vessaria Kolminye was not an emporium of sacred relics and forbidden tomes. Nor was it some arcane laboratory or elaborate chamber filled with luxury trinkets and furniture imported from master artisans. Nor was it some punishment chamber made from the bones of inept summoners that crossed her one too many times. The office of the High Councilor was, for all intents and purposes, just an office. A few file cabinets lined the walls along with bookshelves and some potted plants. A map and scrying mirror hung from the wall, along with some small portraits of famous rune mages and philosophers. Two chairs, soft but unexceptional, faced the large oak desk.

In one of the seats was someone Yasuo never expected to see.

Until then he had never met her personally, but everyone in Ionia knew of Irelia, The Will of the Blades; her feats both in the Fields and during the war were still spoken of in theaters, bars, and schools, her skill with the sword only matched by her commitment to Ionia's well being. Her red armor was polished to a gleam and looked brand new despite years of usage, a stark contrast to Yasuo's own dinged-up and threadbare garments. A most peculiar weapon rested at her side; four blades all combined by a blood red orb in the center created a board-shape that pulsed in sync with its master's heart. A matching mantle floated near her head that complimented her regal air and reminded Yasuo of how holy warriors and myths were portrayed in Ionian paintings. Silver-blue hair draped down to her waist and framed a beautiful face drawn into an impersonal mask, but Yasuo knew better. He felt the antipathy behind her eyes, the quiet rage that demanded justice and punishment and his head on a pike.

"I was about to listen to Ms. Irelia's argument to deny your entrance into the League. I wasn't aware that there was animosity between the two of you," said Kolminye.

"Neither was I," replied Yasuo as he sat down, watching the captain from his peripheral vision. She ignored him and addressed Kolminye.

"High Councilor, this man is one of the most wanted criminals in all of Ionia. He is responsible for the murder of Elder Hideaki as well as dozens of others. He must be brought to trial in Ionia. Letting him join the League would be no different than offering asylum to a war criminal," said Irelia.

Kolminye crossed her fingers and leaned on the desk, processing the information. "You realize that this isn't the first time the League has allowed known criminals into its halls? Most of them have even reined their actions in so that they aren't kicked out. I recall our local sheriff saying that Jinx's destructive rampages only destroy about thirty-four percent of Piltover now that she's in the League."

Yasuo wanted to ask if they should really consider that a good thing, but opted to remain quiet.

"Unfortunately yes, I do realize that," Irelia replied, letting her eyes wander to the subject of their talk, "But this one is different. Murder is, and has always been, a heinous offense in Ionia; we seek enlightenment and to preserve the balance. To rob someone of that journey is an incredible sin. But as much as we like to ensure that all are equal in our lands-"

Yasuo interrupted her with a snort, earning a cold glance from the woman beside him. Her blade trembled, the red orb glowing angrily.

"...As much as we like to ensure equality, our Elders are elevated to a status beyond normal citizens. They are the pinnacle; those rare few individuals who are so wise and good-natured that absolute spiritual illumination is within reach. They are adored and viewed not just as government leaders, but as revered parents who guide their children down the clear path. To claim the life of an Elder is to rob Ionia of its spirit," Irelia refused to break eye contact with Yasuo, all of her hatred dripping from her last words, "and is the act of a coward."

Yasuo's hands clenched into fists, nails sinking into his palms as he fought to keep his temperament in check. "I didn't do it."

Irelia's nostrils flared. "You-"

"Enough," Kolminye cut the younger woman off. Her voice was calm but radiated with power and instantly the other two occupants turned towards her. "Ms. Irelia, I understand your reasons, but the fact remains that Mr. Yasuo has already passed the Judgment and been inducted. A Champion cannot be ejected from the Institute unless their current actions are detrimental to the League's interests, or if their representative city-state requests to revoke that person's status as a Champion. And if what I am reading is correct..." the High Councilor skimmed through the stack of papers on her desk, "Then Mr. Yasuo has chosen to be an independent. That means Ionia has no say."

"But-" Irelia started.

"And since you have shown me no evidence that Mr. Yasuo intends to disrupt the League's practices or endanger all of Valoran, I will not deny his induction. Your request is denied."

Irelia made no attempt to hide her disappointment. She opened her mouth to say something, but closed it after a thought. The High Councilor's word was law, and Kolminye showed no signs of being swayed.

Sensing a lull in the conversation, Yasuo finally decided to jump in. "It sounds like this was going to be the outcome before we even came here. Sooo..."

"Why did I summon you both? Very astute of you," Kolminye pushed her spectacles up her nose and eyed the two Champions with a hawk-like gaze. "As you are both aware, the League forbids fighting amongst Champions off the Fields of Justice. In the past you would be given a swift reprimand for doing so, but that is all. Yet another blunder by Relivash."

"The League is increasing in size each day, and as more Champions join with...histories between themselves, I have found the need to crack down before things get out of hand. If I hear of any violence among you two, or any person for that matter, your expulsion will be immediate. I will not have Champions trying to kill one another over vendettas, grudges, or misplaced senses of justice," Kolminye finished and sent a pointed look at Irelia, "That goes double for you, Will of the Blades."

Irelia's jaw tightened as she bit back a retort.

"High Councilor, I hold no ill will towards the Captain even if she doesn't feel the same for me," said Yasuo, "I'm not here to start trouble. I just want-"

"I don't particularly care, Mr. Yasuo," interjected Kolminye. "The goals and plans of Champions is of no concern to the League as long as they adhere to the rules I have mentioned."

Yasuo decided that he did not like this woman.

The High Councilor reclined into her seat. "You may go now."

Irelia was the first to stand up, giving a formal bow to Kolminye before walking out of the room, her weapon dutifully floating after her like a sentry. Yasuo followed a moment after. As soon as the large oaken doors shut, the woman turned on him, marching right up to his face. Yasuo rested a hand on his scabbard, expecting the attack to come at any moment, but it the captain merely stood there and pierced him with her eyes. He had seen eyes like those many times on his journeys, and they never meant anything good for him. They stood alone in the hallway for what felt like minutes. No fighting, no words, just standing so close to one another their noses were nearly touching. Frankly, he wished she would hurry up and attack him already to break the tension.

"We gonna kiss or what?" he asked, hoping to goad her into doing _something_. Irelia's eyes narrowed.

"Why? Why did you kill him?" she demanded.

Yasuo glared back at her. "I. Didn't. Kill him."

"Liar," seethed Irelia. The weapon behind her trembled in the air and four blades floated above her head, aiming themselves at the swordsman, eager for battle but restrained by their master's will. Yasuo's thumb slowly inched his sword out from the sheath. "How dare you lie of your sins."

"I know my sins far better than you do," Yasuo replied coolly. "I'll admit that Elder Hideaki's blood is on my hands, but I was not the one to end his life that day."

"You shouldn't be allowed to say his name," whispered Irelia. Yasuo's well trained eyes could see her body's minute shaking through her armor, a testament to her self-control even when enraged. The orb's glow cast her shadow onto the wall, giving it the appearance of a great demon looming over its victim. "How can you so casually stand there and try to deceive me? Do you take me for a fool?"

"You don't want me to answer that."

"I read the reports," Irelia said, "On the night that Noxian forces attacked Heiwatanigi, Elder Hideaki ordered the majority of his guards to assist in defending the village, leaving only a small regiment for his own protection. According to onlookers in the courtyard, at the apex of the battle a great gust of wind blasted apart his chambers from the inside, and the one elite guard that was stationed with him personally - a swordsman that used the fabled wind technique - was missing, leaving only the Elder and four other guards, all dead, in the ruins."

Now Yasuo was the one shaking, visions from the past flashing through his eyes at each word. Noxian banners, flames and smoke, a smiling face, a rock slide, and darkness. Then his vision refocused on the woman in front of him, who made his blood boil with her venomous words. It had been a long time since he had such blood-lust.

Irelia must have sensed his aura, because she instinctively took a step back into a position that would allow her to spring forward for the first attack, before she spoke again. "The swordsman who abandoned his post arrived an hour after the battle ended. So tell me...were you telling the Noxians of your success at that time? How much did they pay you to kill a defenseless old man?"

Yasuo's hands moved on their own, his sword half-way out of his scabbard while Irelia's own blades came down on his head. But at the last second, Yasuo ceased movement, and Irelia stopped her attack just as the tips of her knives touched his scalp. He took a deep breath, exhaling through his mouth, and his body, so full of rage and adrenaline seconds before, deflated as he slid his sword back into the sheath. Irelia's brow wrinkled slightly in confusion, but she did not retract her blades, instead re-positioning them so that they surrounded Yasuo's throat. He did not look concerned. His eyes closed as he continued to breathe. Finally, he opened his eyes.

"I did not kill him. I'm here to search for the real killer. I don't care if you believe me or not, but I will follow this path until the end, and I won't let anyone get in my way."

Irelia did not respond for a full minute, searching for any signs of insincerity, anything that could justify her attack, but found nothing. She relented and withdrew her weapons. Her face was still filled with contempt. "Say what you will, but I won't give up. I will see to it that you are expelled from the League and placed into my custody with all the power at my disposal. I already let one monster stalk these halls, I will not let another."

"Then let's settle this right now," Yasuo replied, and for a moment Irelia tensed, expecting him to draw his sword again, but Yasuo showed no outward aggression. "There's got to be a training ground or something here right? Let's have a duel. If you win, I'll quit the League and turn myself in. But if I win, you leave me alone. I don't want to see your face outside the Fields or whatever the hell they call 'em."

"You assume that I would allow you to walk free based on the results of a duel?" Irelia asked.

"No. I assume that you have honor."

Yet again Irelia did not reply, scrutinizing his words in her mind, trying to figure out this man in front of her. Yasuo waited patiently for her response, and after what seemed like minutes, she nodded.

"Follow me."

* * *

A/N: Well! That escalated quickly! Sorry for the slow updates, but fear not. I am working on chapter 4 as we speak, and hope to have it out by the end of July. You continued views and reviews are a big support though, so spread the word and let's get that review number up there! Once again, big thanks to Cinis and Deixis for the help!


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